What Happens in the Cage, Stays in the Cage
by IShipMoosifer
Summary: After Lucifer and Micheal have settled their differences, Michael leaves the fate of the two Winchester boys in Lucifer's hands. After all, Luci's got an eternity of fun before him, and two perfect outlets just waiting to be explored. OS torture fic about the Cage. NO SLASH. Disclaimer: I own nothing.


**Having fought out his differences between Michael and h** **im ages ago, Lucifer's attention has turned to Sam to keep him entertained. After all, they've got an eternity together, so why not make it fun for Luci and pain-filled for Sam?**

* * *

The spine is said to be the most painful part of the body to get tattooed, and the back is a sensitive area in general. The slight raise of bone down the center sent a thrill of excitement through Lucifer as he mused about today's fun. He hummed to himself as he ran his fingers down the sides of Sam's neck, eliciting a shudder in response. His bare back was smooth and unblemished, showing no marks of yesterday's torture.

So far, Lucifer had Sam face down on a table, raw leather strands digging into his skin to hold him in place. His shirt had been ripped down the back to expose his skin. Sam still hadn't said a word to him, instead choosing to put on a brave front. A sly grin crossed Lucifer's lips as he abruptly dug his nails into the back of Sam's neck, watching the involuntary pain response tense all of his muscles.

"The things I've got planned for today, Sammy," Lucifer hissed, crouching down to Sam's level. He roughly grabbed his chin and pulled Sam's head to face him, admiring the way he automatically tried to yank himself away.

Lucifer pouted. "Don't you wanna have fun?"

Sam's eyes flickered from side to side, futilely looking for a way out. "Don't call me that."

" _Don't call me that_ ," Lucifer cruelly mocked. "What are you going to do about it?" He stepped back and threw his arms out. "How are you going to stop me?"

Instead of answering, Sam put his head back on the table and shut his eyes, bracing himself for whatever was about to come. Lucifer let out a low laugh and stepped closer to the table, twisting the scalpel through his fingers.

A small, barely audible whimper from behind him brought his attention away from Sam. Casting a glance over his shoulder at Adam, Lucifer debated whether or whether not he was worth his time. Grinning widely, he roughly grabbed a chunk of Sam's hair and slammed his head on the table, then pulled him back up and cranked his head around so Sam was looking at Adam.

"You're going to watch, Sammy. Watch me now, I don't want you to miss a single thing." Lucifer murmured delicately in Sam's ear.

The barely concealed panic that took over his formerly tired expression was enough to make a delighted laugh pierce the air. Lucifer kept laughing as he crossed the room to the crouching figure of Adam, watching him shrink into the corner. A low keening sound emitted from his lips, the frightened sound setting Sam's nerves on edge. He grit his teeth and turned his head away, not wanting to watch another person he'd let down get tortured by the Devil himself. Sam heard the scraping sound of Adam getting pulled off the floor, along with a dull thud and a crack of something hitting the wall.

Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh as he saw the back of Sam's head. Holding Adam up against the wall with one hand, he gestured and Sam got forcibly wrenched around to meet his gaze.

"Sammy. What did I say about looking away?" he hissed in a dangerous tone. As it always did when the Devil got mad, frost started to crawl up the edges of the room, sending Adam into a flurry as he tried to get away. "You don't watch, and your poor little brother here gets it ten times worse."

Sam swallowed dryly, desperation clouding his features. "Please."

Lucifer put his hand around his ear in a gesture for him to speak up. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said please," he gasped out, voice cracking on the last word.

Sam could handle an obscene of bodily pain. Hell, he'd been tied down and beaten on however many times during hunts before. Not to mention, he had a pretty high pain threshold. Sam could cope. But put him in a position where all he can do is watch helplessly, and he'd break faster than any amount of physical torture you could put him through. Yes, he'd put up a fight, but in the end, he would give himself up.

He always did.

Lucifer cocked his head, mimicking a confused expression. "I'm afraid I don't understand." One could almost mistake his appearance for being sincere; that is, before he turned and rammed the scalpel handle-deep in Adam's neck.

His horrified screams were nothing but wet gurgles as Adam choked on his own blood. Sam strained against the leather tying him down, fighting to get free and help his younger sibling. Lucifer cackled and summoned a small dagger, dragging it in a line down Adam's stomach. Adam thrashed in his hold, hands grasping at nothing. His pain-filled gaze met Sam's, and his hatred for Lucifer got taken to a whole new level.

The next weapon to join in the mix was nothing but Satan's own imagination. Razor wire flew out of the concrete walls, lashing itself around Adam and holding him in place. The scalpel was still stuck in place, and Lucifer had pinned the dagger through one of his hands.

The Devil sniggered, laughing at the fact that Adam was unable to get away from his pain. Normally, they would die, their souls would leave their bodies and get a little rest before getting dragged back by the warding magic on the Cage. But today, Lucifer was trapping their souls inside their bodies.

Sam glared at Lucifer for a short while, but consequently dropped his stare. He was just too tired. Call him selfish, call him weak, but deep down he knew that if Satan was busy with Adam, he wouldn't touch Sam. His body cried out for him to take a rest, let somebody else bear the pain for a while, and his mind was tempted to agree.

He dropped his head on the table, eyes squeezed shut as he listen to Adam's blood curdling screams. Sam just couldn't take it- every sense of righteousness he had in him body was telling him to take Adam's place- let Lucifer have him instead.

"Stop!" Sam rasped. "Just- stop."

Lucifer turned to look at him, blood splattered up the side of his face. Sam's stomach roiled as he took notice of Lucifer's hand, shoved up to his elbow under Adam's ribcage. The poor boy had his eyes rolled back in his head, and all you could hear were incoherent mumbles and the occasional choking sob. Lucifer grinned, forked tongue flicking out to lick a drop of blood off his lips.

"I'm taking it you know what happens next."

Memories that sent shudders racking his body flashed through Sam's mind, but he sighed in resignation. "Don't hurt him anymore." His voice was weak, defeated.

Pulling his arm out of Adam's chest with a disgusting sucking sound, Lucifer casually strolled over to Sam and wiped his hands on the tattered remains of his shirt. Adam stayed up on the wall, still being held up with the razor wire, convulsing and spitting up blood. Sam knew he must be in blinding amounts of pain, but at least he'd stopped him from receiving further injury.

"Sam, Sam, Sam…" Lucifer tsked. "Are you ever going to learn? I'm being _nice_. I'm giving you a break."

"I don't want your sympathy." Sam spat, momentary defiance swelling up inside of him.

"Ask, and you shall receive," the Devil quipped. Sam tensed, confused. What was that supposed to mean?

He got his answer in the form of a scalpel being dragged down his spine.

Sam's screams split the air, agony in its purest form. He could feel the blade all the way down his back, he could feel his skin splitting apart and the metal scraping against bone. Every sense was electrified, pain ripping through every inch of his being. He pushed himself into the table, yanking on the restraints, trying to move away from the one who was giving him such a punishment.

Lucifer moved torturously slowly, taking his sweet time to dig in the blade as far as it would go. Watching Sam yell in anguish and thrash helplessly, and knowing that _he_ was the one who was doing it to him- it was like Christmas. The sound of pain-filled screaming was pure music to his ears.

Lifting the blade out, Lucifer stared down at the clean incision with a half smile on his face. "I should be a real surgeon…" he muttered to himself as he moved himself to Sam's other side.

Tears streaked down Sam's cheeks. His screams continued long after the Devil had stopped, but after a few minutes it was replaced with blank stares at the table and an odd stillness about his body. His shuddering breaths were the only hint that Sam was even still alive. Lucifer found this interesting; perhaps he'd have to experiment with the spine more often.

"Hey, Sammy…" Satan whispered in his ear, pushing the hair out of the boy's face.

Sam shifted a little to get a clear view of Lucifer, the small movement sending waves of pain crashing over him. He had to clamp down on his tongue to stop from crying out. "Is that the worst you can do?" he choked out feebly.

The Devil dipped two fingers in the blood pouring out of the back wounds and brought them up to Sam's mouth in reply. Sam clenched his teeth together, turning his head away. Lucifer simply chuckled and forcefully grabbed his jaw, squeezing until he heard something crack.

Sam hollered and pulled away, digging his forehead into the table. His mouth hung loosely open, and pain radiated throughout his skull. He could feel the entire right side of his mouth move a different way than his left. Lucifer grinned at the nail marks left on his cheeks. This left Sam in too much of a daze to notice when blood-soaked fingers slid into his mouth.

With a touch, Lucifer healed the jaw and Sam's first reaction was to bite down. Satan only laughed. He wiggled the two fingers inside his mouth and smirked up at Sam.

"Come on, Sammy. I know you must be thirsty."

Sam's look of pure disgust and hatred-yet still fearful- was almost enough to make up for the fact that he still had a shred of defiance after all these years.

Lucifer stared with a rapt expression at the Winchester. He shoved his fingers in farther, feeling Sam's teeth break his skin before he started to choke. Sam struggled to spit the fingers out, but Lucifer was persistent and held them there. Sam dry heaved in the back of his throat, feeling his stomach roll, but he forced himself to push his tongue forward.

A small smile alighted on the Devil's lips when he felt a flicker of Sam's tongue against his fingers. Sam's eyes were shut, his head half turned to the side. He didn't want to see the vicious joy on Lucifer's face as he got what he wanted. Lucifer shook his clean fingers one more time and pulled them out, admiring the job Sam had done licking the blood off.

Lucifer stood up, watching Sam spit out as much as he could. His lips stained red, and his teeth were coated in the stuff. Sam could feel the liquid still mixing around in his mouth, and he fought the urge to throw up. The metallic taste sent shudders of revulsion through him, yet the comfortable numbness it brought was strangely reassuring.

This had to be one of Lucifer's favourite pastimes. Forcing Sam to drink his own blood, that is. Sam had noticed a while back that Lucifer got oddly excited whenever the effects started to set in.

The way Lucifer had explained it, the demon blood that Sam had in his system reacted to Hell, just enough to make the effects of his own blood mirror that of other demons. Not to mention the amount of blood he had had to ingest just to host Lucifer was still coursing around in his body, adding to what was already inside of him.

Sam glared at Lucifer, pain cleared from his mind. The first effect of the blood was to take away his discomfort. He was sure his back was a muddle of skin and bone, but he couldn't feel a damn thing.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Sam said cautiously. After carefully observing Lucifer's actions, Sam thought he was in a better mood today. He'd let Sam speak his mind fairly freely, and was taking a bit of time to banter in between.

"Because you're mine, Sammy. And I do what I want to what's mine." Lucifer moved out of Sam's sight, and even if he couldn't feel pain Sam instinctively tensed. Lucifer noticed and smiled to himself. As much as the young human could pretend to be brave, they both knew he was terrified inside.

Sam felt pressure on his back, the icy touch of Lucifer sending a little shock through his skin. He flinched away, wrists starting to rub raw from the leather holding him down. Lucifer pulled up the loose flesh around the cut down his spine, and ran his fingers under the edge, peeling back the skin to expose the muscle underneath. He cackled and dug his fingers into the bloody mess, letting his hands get covered with the stuff.

Lucifer stepped back towards Sam and crouched down to his level. He danced his bloody fingers in front of Sam's face, watching how his eyes flickered back and forth to keep them in view. "How you feeling, Sam?"

"Get the hell away from me." Now that his pain was gone, Sam was feeling slightly cocky and defiant. Lucifer had to admit that he was a little impressed. It'd just passed the big one-hundred year date down here (even if a chunk of that time was spent fighting with Michael), and Sammy still had a little fight left in him.

"Now, Sam. I don't think you really mean that, do you?"

However bitter Sam's words were, his actions betrayed him. Lucifer didn't even have to read his thoughts to know what was going on inside that little head of his. As much as he wanted to deny it, Sam was aching for the blood that dripped from the Devil's fingers. Sam's words were telling Satan to fuck off, but his body language was saying something completely different.

Lucifer saw the way that Sam's fingers clenched into tight fists. He noticed how his nostrils flared when he caught the scent, how Sam unconsciously licked his already bloody lips in anticipation. However, he also saw the pure, unbridled hate in his eyes. Sam hated himself for being this way. He hated Lucifer for opening up once again to an addiction that had ruined his life. And most of all, he hated the fact that he barely cared.

All he was looking forward to was his next hit.

Lucifer put his palm, filled with blood, next to Sam's mouth and held it there, letting the smell make its way inside his head. Sam grimaced and looked like he wanted to jerk away, but instead he was fighting his urges with little twitches and shudders. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing exactly what Lucifer was doing.

The Devil's hand was close enough to Sam's mouth that he could reach forwards and lick it up himself, or if he could contain it, Lucifer would feed him anyways. It was a battle of wills. How low was Sam willing to bring himself to get what he craved? Either way, Sam lost. Either way, he was still in Hell. So why not get a short reprieve, let himself have one sweet moment of pleasure amongst all this bad.

Sam's eyes flickered to Lucifer's for a brief second before he let himself cave, lurching forwards and latching his mouth around the hand. The effects were instantaneous, Sam's body relaxed and he sank down with a low groan, blood dripping down his chin. Lucifer hummed pleasantly and worked a blood-soaked finger past his lips once the blood in his palm was gone. Sam, already in a blood induced haze, accepted them without hesitation as he tried to reach every drop that he could.

"Look at you," Lucifer murmured. "Drinking blood from the Devil's own hands. You've just reached a whole new level of freak, Sam."

Sam broke free with a gasp. He stared up at Lucifer, vision sharpening into pinpoint clarity. The word 'freak' had always struck a chord with him. Even when he was little. The first time, it'd been John to say it. He'd come back to the motel room, all angry words and fists, screaming at Sam that it was all his fault that his wife was dead. At the time, Sam had no idea what he was talking about. Sam just knew he'd done something wrong. John had asked him 'how much of a freak do you have to be to get your own mother killed?' and that was when Dean had stepped in, saying-

No.

He couldn't have thoughts of Dean, not down here. Lucifer would know. Instead, Sam summoned up the power inside of him and put up a shield around his mind, a feeble effort to ward off the Devil's probing. Carefully looking up at Lucifer, Sam noticed that he looked furious.

Lucifer let out a short laugh, eyes closing for a brief moment. When he opened them, he stared down with frightening intensity. Sam felt a small part of him shrivel up inside. He'd fucked up big time, he knew. How could he have gotten so cocky? This was _Lucifer,_ a freaking archangel for fucks sake. The one who created the first demon, Light-bringer, the Morning Star, evil personified, and Sam thought he could have a small victory by hiding something from him?

"Now, now, Sam. I thought I'd told you not to think those kind of things."

Sam didn't even put up a pretense before he started to beg. He'd learned long ago that refusal to beg brought pure agony on him- and his younger brother. "Please, I didn't mean to, please-"

Lucifer simply grinned as Sam groveled, and snapped his fingers. Sam cut himself off in surprise as he found himself on his back, looking up at the ceiling, tied down twice as tight as before. He pulled frantically, knowing that he'd have no chance at a rest or reprieve this time. Lucifer snapped again and he felt the effects of the blood leave his body in a flash, causing the pain to return in waves of suffering.

Sam let out a scream as it took him by surprise. His exposed spine grated uncomfortably against the rough wooden table he was strapped to, and he arched his back to relieve what little he could as a burning feeling raced across his back. Lucifer walked to his side and pushed down on his chest, forcing him down onto the table. Sam groaned and thrashed against his grip. Lucifer started to dig his nails through his shirt, spreading an ice cold feeling throughout the Winchester's body.

Sam stopped struggling as his body almost instantly shut down. His lungs refused to work, and the shock of the sudden cold send black crowding the edges of his vision. Sam's breath caught in his throat, yet all he could do was send a panicked look towards the ceiling.

"Sam, I don't think you understand yet. Dean is useless here. Yet…" Here, Lucifer paused with a humourless chuckle. "Yet you still insist on thinking he's your savoir."

Lucifer pulled back his hand and the cold feeling left Sam in a rush. He greedily gasped in the air, head falling back onto the table in defeat. "I didn't mean to think about him… I'm sorry…" Sam slurred through the wall of pain.

"How can I make you realize that you're completely alone down here, Sammy? Nobody's coming to save you this time. Thing is, Dean just doesn't _care_ anymore. You're nothing to him."

The harsh words were enough to send unshed tears to Sam's eyes. He blinked furiously, trying to control the physical and emotional pain that Satan was putting him through. Sam hissed out a breath and recoiled from Lucifer. "That's not true," he blurted before realizing his mistake.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, before ripping open the front of Sam's shirt with his bare hands and casting the shreds of fabric aside. "There, now we've got something to work with."

"What are you going to do with me?" Sam asked, fear bleeding through into his voice. He'd just managed to get his back pain down to a tolerable level, right now he couldn't handle any more.

"I'm going to make you learn, Sam. It's just you and me right now. Not anybody else matters. Not Adam, not Michael, and especially not Dean."

Lucifer ripped his nails down Sam's chest, tearing apart his skin from the collarbone down. Sam let loose a drawn-out groan, but it was nothing compared to some other things Lucifer had done. Satan, still smiling, raked his nails down again, and again, enjoying the agonized sounds coming from the squirming boy underneath him. When Lucifer got to the ribs, however, he grabbed chunks of flesh with both his hands, feeling muscle tear beneath him.

Sam screamed, feeling like he was getting ripped apart by a hellhound. His chest was a bloody, heaving mess that sent torment on him with every quick breath he took between screams. Lucifer started humming, digging in handfuls of Sam's muscle and ripping it out, blood splattering everywhere.

Lucifer paused when he could clearly see both sides of the Winchester's ribcage. He smiled charmingly down at the boy, like he'd just done him a great favour.

"What are you?" Lucifer asks, stroking the exposed ribs.

Sam doesn't know how to react to this question. He's afraid of what will happen if he doesn't answer. After all, Satan's punished him for a lot less. It's hard to concentrate on Lucifer's words when agony is blasting from his core, sending tremors through the rest of his body. "I'm Sam Winches-"

Lucifer tightens his grip on a rib and snaps it, feeling his fingers sink into the organs underneath. Sam howls, slamming his head onto the table and thrashing around in his restraints. There's fire, fire burning through his chest and it won't stop, dear god just make it stop-

There's a sickening pulling sensation, followed by a piercing scream as Lucifer pulls out the broken piece. It clatters on the tray next to Sam's head, and he stares at the rib through a layer of tears. It's covered in his own blood and internal organs, and he retches but there's nothing left to throw up, stomach convulsing painfully.

A delighted laugh breaks through his haze of pain. "Let's try this again. What are you?"

"Sam Win-" he half slurs before he gets cut off by his own screams. Lucifer pulls out another rib, using the sharp front to drag across a lung on the way out.

Sam instantly starts coughing up blood. The metallic taste clears his head a little, and through blurry vision he manages to catch a glimpse of Lucifer, standing over him, a maniacal smile on his face and blood covering most of his skin. "You're supposed to be an angel," Sam gasped out. "What the hell happened to you?"

Lucifer shook his head and smiled. Sam groans and lets his head rest on the table once more. "I could be asking the same thing to you. Look at how weak and pathetic you are now. It's hard to believe you're the guy who saved the world once."

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. "Shut up," he growled, but it was all too obvious how shattered he really was.

"I'm still an angel, albeit a bad one. But you see, the difference between you and me is that I've still got a purpose."

"Shut up."

"You're nothing now. You have no goals, no destiny to fulfill. You're over."

"I said _shut up_!" Sam's voice cracked, and they could both hear the barely contained tears.

"You're nothing," Lucifer whispered, and abruptly yanked out another rib. Sam let out a pained scream and gave a half-assed pull at the ties holding him down.

"So I'm going to ask you again. What are you?"

"Sam-"

The sound of breaking bones filled the room. "What are you?"

"I'm Sam-"

~ **crack** ~

"What are you?"

"Sam Winchester-"

~ **crack** ~

"What are you?"

Agonized groans that sounded like a word followed the question. Lucifer paused, fingers halfway around another rib. "What was that?"

A defeated sob broke out of Sam's throat, and a tear tracked its way down his cheek. "Nothing..."

"What are you?"

~ **crack** ~

"Nothing!" Sam screamed, digging his nails into his palms so hard he felt the skin break. "I'm nothing, I'm not anyone, I'm nobody, nothing..." His sentence fell into incoherent mumbles as his eyes slid shut. Sam tossed his head from side to side, as if denying everything he'd just said. Lucifer stared down at his vessel with a victorious grin so wide he felt his lip crack.

"Wrong," the Devil hissed, leaning in close over Sam's heaving chest and placing his hand over the mass of flesh where his ribs used to be. Slowly digging in his fingers into the pulpy mess, Lucifer wrapped his hand around Sam's heart and squeezed, watching it explode into a bloody oblivion.

"You're mine."


End file.
